


When It Rains, It Pours

by orphan_account



Series: Foundations [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: College AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-13
Updated: 2015-12-13
Packaged: 2018-05-06 12:16:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5416652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three months after joining the same team in University, three months of pretending they don't exist, Kageyama, Kindaichi and Kunimi clash. It's painful, it fucking hurts, and they're all so angry, but maybe, just maybe, they can start figuring out how to work together again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When It Rains, It Pours

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in two hours and other than a cursory look for grammar mistakes and misspellings, it remains unedited. I had a sudden desire to write a story for the Kitaiichi trio, and I had so much I wanted to get out, that this is probably a mess. However, here it is for you to read. Comments are appreciated. :)

Kindaichi hates the way that Kageyama goes silent when he and Kunima step onto the court; the calm expression on Kageyama’s face turning pinched, his hands curling into fists by his sides. Preparing for a fight before anyone’s even angry—that’s what this is.

It’s almost like Kageyama’s saying they’re doing everything wrong already, when all they’re doing is standing on the court. If Kindaichi squints hard enough at the space between them, there’s a huge chasm splitting Kageyama from him and Kunimi, exactly the same as junior high.

After all this time, nothing has changed.

“Kageyama,” says the team captain, Fujimoto, clicking his fingers at Kageyama like he’s summoning a dog. “Practice spiking to Kindaichi and Kunimi.”

He says it so straightforward—and why wouldn’t he? Nobody on this team knows of the chasm, of the years they spent watching their relationship systematically fracture piece by piece, until a picture that was once whole crack into thousands of pieces, creating a mess that can never be cleaned up.

To the rest of the team, Kageyama’s a perfect stranger to Kindaichi and Kunimi.

But he isn’t.

Kageyama doesn’t speak to them. He tosses the ball up perfectly, allowing Kindaichi and Kunimi to respectively hit it with all their strength. Allowing them to slam that ball into the ground, and the ringing of their ears that ensues seems to continue for days as their other teammates goggle at a trio that works perfectly, even though they reckon that only Kindaichi and Kunimi know each other, having come from the same high school.

They work perfectly now, and Kindaichi doesn’t know if he wants to cry or beat the nearest solid object until its broken and his knuckles are destroyed. Where was this teamwork when they needed it the most? Why is it here, now, when it wasn’t around back when their lives had been anger and misery, failed combos and arguments that left a sour taste in all their mouths?

They left a junior high team that was full of kouhai glad to see all three of them go.

There are no words of encouragement, but there are no words of scorn or anger. Kageyama merely retrieves the ball in stony silence.

For some odd reason, it rattles Kindaichi. Who is this stranger wearing Kageyama’s skin? Where’s the _King of the Court_? When he heard Kageyama chose the same University, the Kageyama in his mind was still the junior high student, the abrasive fourteen-year-old. He can’t comprehend this silent eighteen-year-old, who can move like Kageyama, and sounds like him on the rare times Kindaichi hears him speak, but is so different from the person he once knew.

“What do you think of him?” he asks Kunimi one day. They’re off the court, standing in a corner, watching as Kageyama sets to various teammates. With them, he’ll say ‘nice receive’ or ‘nice spike’. It’s the only way Kindaichi knows Kageyama hasn’t suffered an injury that prevents him from speaking. That’s the only way Kindaichi knows the cold shoulder is meant only for _them_.

Kunimi shrugs, looking as lost as Kindaichi feels. “I don’t know.”

They don’t seem to know anything anymore.

Kageyama’s always been a wildcard. Has always been able to take other people’s expectations of him and either prove them wrong or go above and beyond. It’s why Oikawa-san’s always been threatened by him.

There’s a kind of energy in Kageyama that normal people don’t have. Kindaichi can’t explain it, but he knows, deep down, what he’s talking about. He knows what he sees. An energy that threatens those who want to stand on equal ground or surpass him, reminding them of their place and warning them to stay there.

Even if he’s just proving Kindaichi and Kunimi wrong about their assumptions of him, Kageyama doesn’t know how to do anything but go above and beyond in proving them wrong. It’s maddening— _frustrating_ — that Kageyama himself never seems to realise he’s doing it, either.

There’s a confrontation building between all three of them. They’ve been on the same team for three months and aside from being forced to work together, they don’t acknowledge each other at all.

And with a sharp warning from Fujimoto—“You’re all to stay here after practice and fucking talk, you hear?” he says, glaring at Kindaichi, Kageyama and Kunimi in turn. They stare at their feet. “I don’t care what shit’s gone on between you lot, but you’re gonna talk about it now, or so help me you’re all on the bench and you’re gonna stay there”—the bottle they’ve been forcing their emotions into breaks.

It’s a good thing the gym is empty except for them. There’s sharp words, sharper glares, and bloody lips. Hands wound so tight into clothing it’s like they’ll never be pried loose. Faces so close noses almost touch.

“I am _not_ a king anymore,” snarls Kageyama. His eyes are glassy and wet, his cheeks stained red, and he hikes up the hand wound in Kindaichi’s shirt until his knuckles are touching Kindaichi’s throat. “You know _nothing_ about me anymore.”

“How are you not a king?” Kindaichi spits. “Apparently we’re still not worthy of your attention because you’ll never look at us. We’re not worthy of royal acknowledgement.”

Kageyama’s eyes narrow dangerously. “That’s not—”

“What are we supposed to think?” Kunimi asks. His hands are gripping Kageyama’s, trying to push between him and Kindaichi to no effect. “You don’t talk to us; you don’t look at us. It’s like we’re not even there!”

“ _You’re_ the ones who don’t talk to _me_ ,” growls Kageyama, and there’s a hidden emotion in his voice that makes him sound gruff, but not angry. “You’re the ones who don’t look at me. If anyone isn’t worthy of acknowledgement, in your eyes it’s clearly me.”

And that’s the stupidest thing Kindaichi has ever heard; he’s done nothing but acknowledge Kageyama since the first time they fucking met. But when he failed to meet Kageyama’s expectations, the sharp eyes that bore into him, willing him to be faster and stronger, started to slide on by.

“ _We_ were never good enough for _you_!” Kindaichi screams. He knocks Kunimi aside as he lunges forward, pushing Kageyama so hard he lands on the floor with a resounding bang. However, his grip on Kindaichi hadn’t loosened, and Kindaichi ends up on his knees. “You made our lives _miserable_ , but you’re turning the blame on us?”

“I’m not blaming you for junior high,” yells Kageyama, his voice cracking. He’s clutching his wrist to his chest. “I know that was my fault. But what can I say? I tried apologising in high school, but you told me to shove it. I wanted to approach you on the first day of practice, but when my name was called you looked at me with _disgust_.”

“What do you expect?” Kindaichi demands.

“You were never a nice person,” Kunimi adds. He kneels down so he isn’t the only one standing. “In first year, yeah, you were different. Second year wasn’t that bad. But third year? A flip switched and your true colours showed. You treated us like shit, and you think we’d be happy to be on the same team again?”

Kageyama’s glancing between them, chest heaving, lower lip caught between his teeth. They’re ganging up on him, Kindaichi knows, and he sees the cornered look on Kageyama’s face. But he doesn’t care. This is no less than what Kageyama deserves.

“W-when I saw …” Kageyama swallows and starts again, “When I saw you two enter the gym, I thought—I _hoped_ —that this was my chance to try and make amends.” He’s still holding his wrist, Kindaichi notices. Did he hurt it in the fall? “I don’t deserve kindness from either of you, I _know_ that. But I hoped I could try. And then you looked at me like that, and I knew it was—I knew it was better to keep my distance. You never liked it when I talked anyway.”

“You never talked,” Kunimi points out. “You shouted.”

“I know I did. But I’ve _changed_.” Kageyama roughly wipes his eyes with the hand not pressed tight to his chest. “I swear to you I’ve changed. When I saw you guys come into this gym the first time, I wanted to prove that.”

Kunimi arches a brow. “Past tense?”

Kageyama shrugs a shoulder, looking meek. “I realised pretty quick that it was impossible. I gave up.”

“Why should we give you a chance?” Kindaichi demands. “What makes you think you deserve one?”

“I don’t,” says Kageyama. “I don’t deserve a chance.”

“You’re supposed to convince us to give you one.” Kindaichi feels the anger bubble up again. Why is Kageyama being so uncharacteristically subservient now?

“Why should I?” Kageyama asks. “The only ones who can decide my worth is you guys. If you decide I’m not worthy of forgiveness or a second chance, then we’ll go back to how it was before, only I’ll make sure to talk to you guys when Fujimoto’s around, so he doesn’t put us on the bench. After practices and games, we’ll go our separate ways and pretend we don’t know each other. The next few years on the team will fly right on by and we’ll be strangers again.”

“As if it would be that easy,” mutters Kindaichi.

“How wouldn’t it be? We played against each other for three years.”

“But we played with each other for three years before that!”

Kageyama stares at him evenly. “You said it yourself once; we were never friends.”

“ _Six years_ , Kageyama!” Kindaichi doesn’t think any of them can pretend to be strangers, they’ve known each other for so long now.

“You guys did pretty well pretending we’re strangers during these past three months. I know you can keep it up.”

This is odd, this is wrong, where’s Kageyama’s fight? Where’s that energy that pushes and pulls at you, dragging you to his point of view? Who is this subservient Kageyama with depression shining out his glazed eyes? Where’s the Kageyama he knew?

“Kindaichi,” says Kunimi, standing. “Come with me a moment.”

They walk over to the other side of the gym, leaving Kageyama on the floor.

“What?” Kindaichi asks in a low voice.

“I want to give him a chance,” says Kunimi.

Kindaichi’s brows almost disappear into his hairline. “You _what_?”

“Surely you haven’t noticed?” Kunimi glances at Kageyama, then his gaze slides back to Kindaichi as he shuffles his weight from foot to foot. “He has changed. I didn’t want to admit it before. But everyone deserves a second chance, even him.”

“After what he _did_?”

“Maybe _because_ of what he did. All of us were stupid back then. We were kids. I dunno, I just think we could give him a chance, see how it all works out, and if it falls apart again we could be strangers with one another again. I think this time we could do it.”

“Be strangers or be friends?”

Kunimi shrugs. “Okay I actually don’t know about either of those. But can we at least see? Karasuno must’ve changed him. I want to see how much.”

Kindaichi growls under his breath, feeling like he’s being pulled in different directions. Common sense warring with experience. “Fine. Fine, we’ll give him a shot. I won’t be surprised if this all blows up in our face.”

“Never know until you try.” Kunimi nods at Kageyama, who’s staring at his outstretched feet, not even attempting to pay attention to anything anymore. “Come on, let’s get back over there before he walks off or something.”

They go back over and kneel down in front of Kageyama, who lifts his gaze from the floor to stare at them emotionlessly through bloodshot eyes. His face is pale.

“We’ve decided,” says Kunimi. Kindaichi stays quiet, deciding it’s probably for the best that Kunimi speaks for the two of them. “We’ll give you a second chance.”

Kageyama perks up slowly. He glances between the two of them for a few seconds, like he’s expecting one of them to burst into laughter and tell him it’s a joke, he can go fuck himself. “Are you serious?”

“Yes,” says Kindaichi. “But you only get one chance. And you’re not completely off the hook.”

“There’s a lot of things we have to talk about and work through,” Kunimi says quickly, jabbing his elbow into Kindaichi’s side. “But we’re willing to make the effort.”

“T-then if we’re gonna be friends now,” says Kageyama, “can I ask you for help with something?”

Kunimi shrugs. “Sure, I guess.”

“Can you help me to the nurse?” Kageyama grimaces in pain. “I broke my wrist in the fall. It really hurts.”

“You _idiot_!” cries Kunimi, leaping to his feet. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

“I wanted to—I wanted to hear your answer before I said anything.”

“Kindaichi, grab his other arm,” says Kunimi. “On three, we’ll pull him up. One, two, three.”

They pull Kageyama up and support him all the way to the nurse’s office.

None of them fail to notice that they haven’t walked side by side like this for almost six years. As they go, it feels right to have Kageyama back in the old, familiar spot between Kindaichi and Kunimi, as if there’s always been a spot between them that Kageyama needed to fill.

“Fujimoto’s gonna be pissed,” groans Kageyama.

Kindaichi and Kunimi laugh—and it feels like they haven’t laughed in six years, even though they have.

“We’ll deal with him when the time comes,” Kunimi promises.

They’ll deal with a lot of things when the time comes, Kindaichi thinks. They can laugh and joke now, and momentarily set aside old pain, but they’ll have to bring it up sometime and properly sort through it.

It won’t be easy, but Kindaichi can be convinced that in the long run it’ll all be worth it. He’s starting to hope that maybe, just maybe, it will be.

**Author's Note:**

> [Follow me for more KinKuniKage!](http://beaunaratau.tumblr.com/)
> 
> I may turn this into a series. What do you guys think?


End file.
